A/N:  I'm procrastinating, and I'm sincerely sorry.  Thank you to Leanne8582 (I feel sorry for Willow, too), Queen Boadicea (I think he's still insane…wait, he's always insane), TheSecondEvil (those who didn't overreact scare me), and AnGeL GiRl9 (I'm glad Angel didn't come off too clichéd) for reviewing.

Also, I'm going on vacation tomorrow for a week, but I promise to write while I go tubing…or maybe once I'm dry.  I'm just saying that I'm bringing a laptop and will be prepared with an update next week.

Chapter Eight:  Twisting the Situation

            Buffy watched as his image disappeared up the stairs and then took in a deep breath.  Everything had just gotten so confusing.  Xander—oh god, Xander.  What was she going to do?  She was bitter, of course, still upset.  But with everything that was happening, her mind began to throb, a migraine pressing against her temple.

            She sighed, taking off her denim jacket and strewing it on the couch.  She watched as the television screen cleared into a floaty menu.  Play Movie.  Chapter Selection.  Special Features.  Simple choices.  Watch the movie from the beginning or start from scene 5.  Or just watch the gag reel and spew out the diet cola you'd stupidly consumed right before.  Simple choices.  But life was not a melodramatic movie with cheesy lines and stupid, predictable plot points.  It was living, choosing, imperfection.  It was lonely and cruel.  But it could also be wonderful, magical.  And that's where the bittersweet qualities kicked in.

            Buffy turned off the DVD player and went into the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out the half-eaten carton of ice cream she's started the other day.  Grabbing herself a spoon, she dipped it deep into the container and dislodged a healthy portion of ice cream.  She'd already tried drowning her sorrows in fighting and that'd just gotten everything more complicated.  Drowning sorrows in food was a time-honored tradition with females across the country.  And, finally finding a majority she belonged to,  she half-heartedly began to eat.

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            "Um, so, uh, here's my book collection.  I guess you could probably look through this one"—Willow smiled at Angel and handed him a dusty, leather-bound volume—"because it focuses on mind manipulation."  She sat down on her bed and pulled out a volume for herself.  Angel, since he had been on his feet for a while (the distance from L.A. to Sunnydale is not to be taken lightly), looked questioningly at the bed and waited for Willow to nod before he sat down next to her. 

            Angel looked down at the book and the small collection stuffed in a vertical bookshelf.  "Didn't you guys used to have a whole magick store?"

            Willow looked at him, and then glanced away guiltily.  "Uh, yeah.  I sort of destroyed it when I went…evil."

            Angel had little idea what she was talking about (hallucinating in the middle of the ocean doesn't exactly keep your memory up to par), but guessed it had to do with Buffy's comment earlier about going "black".  It was hard to imagine Willow, the sweet computer nerd he'd once known, evil.  How evil, he had yet to figure out.  All he could really tell was that she felt really guilty.  As a vampire cursed with the desire for redemption, Angel knew how she felt.  "I wouldn't worry about it," he said reassuringly.   "It probably would have been destroyed sooner or later.  The very fact that there are any building in Sunnydale shocks me.  I'd've thought it'd be swallowed up in some apocalypse or another by now."

            "I guess," Willow answered quietly.  She paused for a second, not even moving.  Then she quickly opened up her book and turned to Angel.  "I guess it would help if I knew what kind of memory loss you need to counter.  If you don't mind me asking, who's this for?"

            "Cordy, actually.  She's been missing all summer and suddenly she shows up at the hotel with no memory whatsoever.  We don't know what caused it, only that she has some pretty valuable information about some coming disaster in her head that could help us be prepared for….whatever we're facing."

            "You know, it's never 'my kitty got lost and she needs to remember how to get home' amnesia.  It's always of the 'world is doomed' variety." Or of the magick-addicted version that you stupidly cast and lost your lover because of, Willow added silently to herself, ashamed.

            Angel gave her a wry smile.  "I think it's part of the job description."  He looked at the open doorway to the empty corridor, and then back at Willow, concerned.  "Hey, Willow, do you mind me asking what's up with Buffy?"

            "Buffy?  Well, um, you know…"  Willow began, frustrated.  The very person, the center of the problem, had just popped by and asked her about the problem, which was him.  Sort of.  Willow closed her eyes.  She was just confusing herself.

            She swallowed slightly, opened her eyes, and decided to start again and tell Angel what had been causing a schism in the Scoobies.  "You.  You're up actually, no matter how ironic it seems to be now that you're here."  At his confused look, Willow clarified.  "Remember when you became Angelus and Buffy had to kill you?"

            "She technically just sent me to hundreds of years of torture in a hell dimension, but yeah, I remember."  How much he wished he didn't.  Didn't remember tormenting Buffy.  Didn't remember killing Jenny.  Didn't remember how much he liked it.

            "Well, I had decided to perform the gypsy curse on you so Buffy wouldn't have to lose you.  I told Xander….I told Xander to tell Buffy that I was going to curse you and just to delay you, not kill you.  He decided instead to modify my message into 'Kick his ass'."  Willow sighed.  "This was all revealed recently and Buffy and Xander have been fighting ever since.  Not to mention that I think Buffy has been overanalyzing it and has been beating herself because she now thinks there was a possibility that she could have saved you."

            Angel looked at Willow and said firmly, "No.  There's no way she could have.  I had too many people on my side.  I took the first moment she was distracted to activate Acathla.  And after I did that, she had no choice."

            "She doesn't see that! No matter how much she knows that is probably true, she now has doubts.  Everything isn't so black and white anymore."

            "Nothing was ever black and white," Angel responded.  "You're lucky if you get a clear shade of gray these days."  He sighed.  "Do you think…Do you think it'd help, or if she would feel better if I talked to her?  I hate to see her like this."

            Willow shrugged tiredly.  "It probably wouldn't hurt. But—oh!"  Willow grinned triumphantly, pointing at something in the middle of her book.  "I think I've found a spell that might just work.  I'll just need to get some ingredients.  Did you want me to finish it tonight?"

            Angel looked through the doorway again, seeing Buffy retreat down the corridor to her room.  "No, that's okay.  Get some sleep.  I've got work to do in the morning."

            Willow looked at him knowingly, but said nothing. If Angel was the key to this problem, maybe he was the key to the solution.  But all she knew for certain was that this whole situation had twisted in a way she'd never expected—and that it was going to twist some more.  Whether this additional twisting was positive or negative was yet to be decided.

Will Angel help Buffy or are things taking a turn for the worse?  Remember to tune in next time and to review!